Page 117 of The Defender
Blackcastle stadium.
It was electric when seventy thousand people packed the stands, their cheers so loud it shook the very earth. But when it was empty and still, with nothing but silence and the dreams of glory echoing across the pitch?
It was magic.
“How did you do this?” Brooklyn breathed.
“I had some help from the head groundskeeper. I told you I can charm anyone.”
The night guard also cut off the security feed to the pitch for us so we didn’t get in trouble. We had two hours before he needed to turn the cameras back on, but that was more than enough time.
“Normally, I’d humble you a bit, but I’ll give you a pass this time. This is too cool.” She walked onto the pitch, her eyes shining. I followed her, soaking in her awed expression. I wished I could make her look that happy every day. “I’ve never been here at night. It’s beautiful.”
“It’s my favorite place in the world when it’s like this. Match days are nice, but when it’s empty and you can really take a good, hard look at it from this perspective…nothing else beats the feeling.”
I’d played for Blackcastle for years, but nights like these still hit hard. This was my childhood dream. I’d fought and scraped and worked my ass off my entire life to stand here, to play here, to be part of history in the only way I knew how.
In moments of doubt, I wasn’t sure I deserved it. I couldn’t wrap my head around the fact that I’d actually made it, and I kept waiting for some higher authority to drag me out and lock me up for being an imposter.
Tonight, those doubts were nowhere to be found. It was just Brooklyn and me and the magic of an empty stadium.
I sat on the middle of the pitch and patted the ground. She sank beside me, her laugh tickling my skin when I tugged her so we were both lying on our backs instead.
“Every Blackcastle member should experience this at least once before they leave,” I said. “There’s no better goodbye.”
She stared up at the sky, her expression wistful. “No, there isn’t.”
We fell silent. It was a content, comfortable quiet, the kind where we didn’t have to say a word to know what the other was feeling.
I listened to Brooklyn breathe, my gut tightening when it hit me that this was really it. In a few days, she’d no longer work at Blackcastle. I wouldn’t see her face every time I walked into the training facilities or hear her rhapsodize about the importance of carbs during a presentation.
Of course I could still see and talk to her any time I wanted to, but it wasn’t the same. This was the end of an era, and I’d never been great with goodbyes.
Brooklyn laced her fingers through mine, as though she could hear my thoughts and wanted to reassure me. We weren’t wearing gloves, and despite the winter chill, her skin was warm and soft against mine.
“This is the best Christmas present,” she said. “Thank you.”
“Better than the new state-of-the-art blender I bought you? That model hasn’t even hit the market yet. I had to pull a lot of strings to get my hands on it early.”
Her laugh washed over me. “I do love that blender, but yes, this is better.”
“Good. I was testing you. If you’d said no, I would’ve been offended.”
“You can be such a pain in the ass even when you’re being sweet.”
“It’s one of my superpowers.” My eyes traced the night sky, searching for stars. “I don’t usually like the holidays, but this year has been an exception.”
Brooklyn turned her head to face me. “Why don’t you like the holidays?”
I fell silent. The lights hummed in the distance as I debated how much to tell her. No one knew how I felt about the seasonexcept Scarlett. I put on a good show for my parents, so they thought I loved it when my true feelings were mixed at best.
“It makes me think of my birth mum,” I finally said. “It’s stupid because I never knew her. We’ve never spent Christmas together, and I have an actual family who I can celebrate with. But there’s something about the holidays that just…gets to me. Tis the season, I guess.”
“Have you talked to your parents about her?” Brooklyn asked softly.
“No. They don’t know anything about her. Apparently, she was adamant she wanted no contact when she gave me up, and she forbade the agency from sharing any personal details.” Pressure ballooned behind my ribcage. “I feel like shit sometimes because it’s been almost thirty years, and I still think about meeting her one day.”
“That’s normal. Most adopted children are curious about their birth parents.”
